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drakoneve · 1 year

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The Poisoned Cup

request: Hey, dear! if you are taking requests could i get an angst imagine/oneshot Daemon x Martell fem!reader where she and Daemon are married (they really love each other) and she is pregnant and they are beaming, but reader ends up being poisoned and consequently loses the baby, feeling guilty she ends up running away, but before she leaves a letter for viserys asking for an annulment, before making any decision he talks to Daemon who is furious that she ran away and asks for an annulment + so he goes to Dorne after his wife, she doesn't want to see him at first but he doesn't give up, eventually they talk and reader expresses everything she is feeling just like he does, they cry together and he assures her that everything will be fine and asks her to come back with him, which she agrees to, please? (with a lot of angst, fluffy and happy ending)

pairing: daemon targaryen x y/n martell

word count: 3k (#oops)

warnings: fem bodied!reader, miscarriage, poisoning, reader’s feeling guilty and v depressed

a/n: i apologize if there are any mistakes regarding house martell, i don’t know much abt them. i also didn’t describe much of the reader besides longer hair

When your older brother Qoren Martell told you he’d arranged a marriage between yourself and Prince Daemon Targaryen with King Viserys, you were unbelievably angry with him that you wouldn’t speak to him for days. But eventually you came to accept that marrying the prince was your duty to keep peace between Dorne and the rest of Westeros following the war in the Stepstones.

Daemon talked to you before the wedding about how he wanted to wed you in the traditions of Old Valyria, and you agreed even though you were quite hesitant. In the end it was a beautiful ceremony and you felt undoubtedly connected to your new husband.

It wasn’t but three months after your wedding that your lady in waiting, Elaena, pointed out to you that you hadn’t had your monthly bleed. You visited the maester that morning and he confirmed you were indeed with child.

Everything was going smoothly until two months later, when Rhaenyra ended her search for a husband ended and King Viserys announced a marriage between his daughter and Ser Laenor Velaryon, son of Lord Corlys Velaryon of Driftmark. The feast of celebrations had begun and you sat at the end of the royal table in between Daemon and Lord Lyonel Strong, Hand of the King.

“Everything to your liking, my love?” Daemon asks, then sips on his wine.

You grin at him, pulling apart the sweet roll in front of you to get to the soft, warm center. “Mhm,” you hum. “We’re quite satisfied, dear husband.”

He reaches his free hand to rub your growing belly. You cover his hand with yours and continue on to dine on the fine food presented before you.

Unbeknownst to you, Ser Gerold Royce approaches the royal table.

“Your Grace, Princess Rhaenyra, congratulations are in order,” Ser Gerold greets the king and princess.

“We are honored to have you as a guest, Ser Gerold,” the king says graciously. “I must say, I was most distressed to hear of the Lady Rhea's tragic passing. I'm very sorry for your loss.” “Lady Rhea was a unique character. Her kind... is not soon to be seen again,” Ser Gerold says before turning to glare at Daemon. “In the Vale, men are made to answer for their crimes. Even Targaryens.”

“If there is anything the crown might do to aid House Royce...” Viserys tries to deflect, but Daemon doesn’t allow the show of disrespect.

“Who are you?” Daemon quips as if he hadn’t paid the man the slightest bit of attention until now.

“Ser Gerold Royce of Runestone,” he announces proudly with a puff of his chest.

“And?”

“I am cousin to your late lady wife, Rhea Royce.”

Your stomach clenches at the mention of Daemon’s first wife. You not only knew the truth of what happened, but you helped Daemon plan it out with the help of some of your spies in the Vale. They were married at the time Daemon proposed to you, and there was no way you believed Viserys would allow his rebellious brother an annulment or a second wife in the traditions of Old Valyria. The only solution either of you could come up with to open the negotiations for your hand in marriage was to rid Daemon of is bronze wife completely.

Daemon’s lilac eyes harden as he clenches his jaw before eyeing the man. “Ahh, yes,” he says finally. “Terrible thing. I was positively bereft. Such a tragic accident.”

“You know better than anyone, it was no accident,” Ser Gerold spits.

You gasp lightly, placing both hands on your stomach as if you were in shocked by the accusation. Daemon caught on and sat up in his seat, feigning concern on his features.

He turns back to Ser Gerold with fire in his eyes. “Are you confessing some guilt, Ser Gerold?”

“I am making an accusation.”

“You know, in King's Landing,” Daemon all but growls, “men are made to answer for their slanders. Even old bronze cսոts like you.”

Before Ser Gerold has the chance to come up with a rebuttal, chaos breaks out amongst those on the dancefloor. You can’t see exactly who, but a Kingsguard has overpowered someone you cannot see at all, and is pummeling down with a hard right fist.

Knights from behind the royal table rush forward upon the king’s command, furthering the tension in the room. At this point you’ve risen from your seat and secured a place behind Daemon, who has now drawn Dark Sister from her sheath.

The chaos lasts for a few more minutes but eventually the Kingsguard take control of the room, and the knight who began the fight in the first place was escorted from the throne room. Maids immediately begin working on cleaning the mess (minus the body removed by knights), and party goers resume dancing on the remaining dance floor.

Daemon pulls out your seat out for you and you kiss his cheek before taking your seat. You reach for your wine first before Daemon begins feeding you off his own fork and plate. After a few bites, alternating between the pork your husband was feeding you and the roll you were still tearing apart, a feeling of nausea began to overtake you.

You motion for Daemon to stop, at the same time placing your left hand over your stomach. “Daem, I don’t-“

You don’t even get to finish your sentence before you jump from your chair and turn around just in time to throw up behind the table and not in front of the entirety of the throne room. Daemon is at your side instantly as is Lyonel, and who is already yelling for the maesters. Before you can even really catch your breath, you get sick again.

Muscles in your abdomen tighten as a cramp shoots through you. You cry out in pain and Daemon can’t stand it anymore as he picks you up bridal style out of the throne room and to the privacy of your chambers where the maesters can take care of you properly.

Long after the throne room had emptied and Rhaenyra and Laenor were wed the maesters came looking for Daemon. Despite fighting to stay by your side, Viserys convinced his brother to step away from you and allow maester Orwyle to do his work.

Orwyle approached Daemon, accompanied by his brother and Lord Lyonel, with his hand laced together in front of him, a grim look upon his face. “Prince Daemon,” the maester begins solemnly. “I come with grave news. I’m afraid your lady wife has lost the babe, my prince.”

The news hits Daemon like a punch to the gut, but he swallows his grief for the moment. “And what of my wife? Is she alive?”

“Yes, my prince. She’s asleep now, I gave her milk of the poppy to ease her pains.”

Lyonel steps forward, “What’s the cause of such illness? The princess seemed fine all evening.”

Maester Orwyle nods grimly, “I believe the princess’s illness to be a direct result of greycap poisoning. How the princess ingested such a thing is yet to be discovered, but I will not stop until I’ve discovered it. Thankfully this is not the first time I’ve encountered such a thing.”

Viserys reached out a grateful hand and squeezed his trusted maester’s shoulder. “Thank you, Orwyle. Your services do not go unnoticed.”

Daemon turns away from the group of men and begins down the hall for your shared chambers.

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Two weeks after the attempted assassination and you finally began to feel healthy again. Daemon hardly left your side during your healing process like he no longer trusted anyone else in the world with your care. Maester Orwyle was still giving regular updates to Viserys which you advised him was unnecessary.

It wasn’t the poisoning that had been plaguing you the past couple weeks, it was the loss of your unborn babe. This was your first pregnancy, and neither you or Daemon could’ve been happier to receive the official word from the maester. Everything was going well in terms of the pregnancy until the attempt on your life.

You couldn’t help but spend your time recovering riddled with the guilt of the idea that you could’ve- should’ve done more to protect your baby. Your one job for nine months was to home and protect your baby and you felt you’d failed completely. As a wife, especially to someone of Daemon’s status- the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, your job was to give your husband as many heirs as possible, and you couldn’t even do that.

The guilt had been eating away at the strong resolve you’d built over the years of being an outspoken woman in court. You’d failed your husband, your one true love. Now, even weeks later and after everything he’d done to support you, you found it difficult more now than ever to meet Daemon’s eyes.

When you first learned you were with child you were beyond ecstatic as was Daemon. Despite his previous union, Daemon had yet to become a father and was looking forward to becoming one. You hadn’t any children either and the two of you spoke often of various names for your unborn babe, and began to pick out some of Westeros’s finest silks and fabrics for clothes to be sewn. Now there was no need.

How he didn’t revolt away in disgust, you had no idea. You couldn’t understand why Daemon would stay so loyally by your side when you’d been so unprepared to give him a healthy child. Daemon’s own loyalty did nothing ut remind you just how majorly you’d failed him, and this worked as the straw that finally broke down all the fight you’d had left.

So, you wrote the king a letter.

King Viserys I Targaryen,

I must first apologize to you for the chaos my circumstances has caused the Red Keep as it was never my intentions to cause such disruptions within your court. My brother Qoren stressed the importance of my union with your brother Daemon, and the past year I’ve spent as his wife has been the happiest year of them all.

So it is with a broken heart, and the purest of intentions, that I graciously ask you to annul my marriage to Daemon so such tragedies do not continue to plague your court.

I leave for Dorne as soon as I hand off this letter, where I will be awaiting your word in Dorne alongside Qoren. I thank you for the kindness and generosity you have shared with me this past year, your Grace. I wish you good health and fortune.

Sincerely,

Lady Y/n Targaryen of House Martell.

And true to your word, you along with your lady in waiting Sylva, whom you’d known from before your marriage to Daemon, snuck out of the Red Keep from under the guards’ noses and set out for Dorne.

Viserys received the letter hours after your departure, just as you’d instructed the maid to do, after Daemon had taken off on Caraxes for Dragonstone on crown business. In the time that he’d known you, the king had never known you to be one to hide away in a dark corner when trials and tribulations came your way. The king knows Martells to live honorably by their words “unbowed, unbroken, unbent,” a sentiment that had been proven when he met you.

Unfortunately for the king, Daemon would not return for another day or so, and therefore would be delayed in receiving the news of your departure for Dorne. Viserys wanted to keep the matter close at hand as he hadn’t wished for yet another set of rumors to go swirling about about Daemon. He feared his brother’s reaction should he have sent a messenger to Dragonstone to inform the rogue prince, so Viserys decided to wait until Daemon’s return to deliver the news himself.

That’s exactly how Viserys met Daemon two days later in the Dragonpit. Daemon had just barely slid from the saddle strapped to Caraxes when approached by the king.

Before wither man has the chance to utter a word, Viserys extends his hand out to his brother, your letter in hand. “This was delivered to me two days ago, brother. I was hoping to have the matters resolved before your return, but I’m afraid I have been unsuccessful in reaching Y/n.”

Daemon snatches the letter from Viserys’ hand at the mention of your name and he wastes no time in reading it. His first reaction is anger- how dare you leave King’s Landing? How dare you leave him, your husband? The parchment of your letter crumples in his closing fist as Daemon turns away from his brother and back to Caraxes.

“Daemon!” Viserys lurches forward, trying to reason with his temperamental younger brother. “you must proceed with caution, Daemon! Your actions are sure to have dreadful consequences should you not think before you act.”

Daemon whips back around to face the king, shoving him hard once in the chest with both hands. “I do not need you to govern how I act, brother. Much less in the matters involving my wife.”

With that, Daemon mounted the great blood wyrm and set out for Dorne just as he had the first time.

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Qoren wasn’t exactly pleased with you upon your return, moreso afraid of what Daemon might do to Dorne as a result of your abandonment. Though you confidently assured your brother King Viserys would handle the matters, you weren’t entirely convinced yourself.

Daemon was as unpredictable as any man, though twice as dangerous on the back of a fire breathing dragon. Even the time the two of you spent together would not ensure your safety should the wrath of House Targaryen turn its ugly head towards Dorne.

Despite the circumstances, you were happy to be home. Before your marriage you had never left Dorne before, and you’d missed the familiar comforts of your homeland while you were away. You spent time with your brother and some of his friends, catching up on all the Dornish things you’d missed while you were away.

After the second round of wine began to be poured, a member of the Martell Guard steps forward towards Qoren. “My prince, a dragon has been spotted circling overhead.”

Qoren looks to you first as if telling you to deal with the problem yourself. You sigh and reluctantly stand from your seat. “I shall take care of it,” you announce.

Daemon has landed outside the gates of Sunspear and already dismounted from Caraxes. The moment the gates opened and he first caught a glimpse of you, he began making his way to you. You met him halfway despite the tightening knots of nausea twisting in your stomach.

Still you don’t meet Daemon’s eyes as he approaches you, afraid of his fury. Daemon is but two steps from you now and he finally plants his feet. “Imagine my dismay,” he begins. “upon returning home to King’s Landing only to be informed my lovely wife had fled back to the sun scorched sands of her homeland after asking my own brother to free her from our marriage. Tell me, wife, did you intentionally wait until I had departed from the Keep to make your escape? Or was it purely circumstance?”

His lilac eyes are furious. Daemon is no doubt holding his tongue to keep from saying something he might truly regret. A part of you wishes he wouldn’t, however. You wish he would let go and take out his anger on you, as you believed you deserved it.

Tears began to well in your eyes as you finally met your husband’s gaze. “I only meant to rid you of your burdens, my prince. A man of such status as you musn’t be burdened by the troubles of a wife who cannot provide..”

Somehow you don’t have it in yourself to finish your sentence before erupting into uncontrollable sobs. Daemon reaches out for you and pulls you into a tight embrace despite your desperate pleas. He allows you to cry into his chest for a moment before grasping your face in his large hands and forces you to look at him.

It’s only then you notice his eyes are red and wet with tears as well. “You had nothing to do with the poison, or with the death of our babe, dear wife. Had it been up to us, our dragon would still be in your belly, would it not?”

“Yes,” you cried pitifully, reaching one hand down to caress your stomach where you once felt the growing of your babe. “I want my baby, Daem. I want my baby.” You all but collapsed in your husband’s arms, using his large stature as support.

“I know,” he replies, voice thick with emotion. “and I swear to you, Y/n, that I will not stop until I have Ser Gerold’s head on a spike. Until then, my love, we can always try for another if you so wish.”

You pulled away, sobs ceased for the moment. “Ser Gerold? Of Runestone? What does he have to do with these matters?”

Daemon clenches his jaw before relenting. “I believe, as does Maester Orwyle, Ser Gerold is behind the attempt on your life and the murder of our babe. I planned to make way for Runestone upon my return to the Keep, but I’m afraid I’ve been side tracked.”

In that moment the guilt that had settled itself in your gut quickly turned to a bright hot rage. “Take me with you,” you demand forcefully. “and we shall show Ser Gerold, and the rest of the realm, just what happens when you scorn the house of dragons.”

A wicked grin spreads across Daemon’s face before he offers you his hand. “Come, dear wife, and we shall show them all.”

You grasped his hand in yours before beginning towards Caraxes, but not before Daemon pulls you to a stop and leans down to bring you into a kiss. Daemon has never been one to kiss you slowly, typically opting for quick kisses in the eyes of others, and more passionate kisses for the bedroom.

But now as the two of you stand wrapped around each other in the Dornish heat, he kisses you softly, slowly. As if he’s trying to tell you he loves you in the only way he knows how.

When the two of you finally part, you smile up at him. Your first genuinely happy smile in nearly a month. Perhaps Viserys knew just what he was doing in delaying your request for that annulment.

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alannybunnue · 1 year

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Have we considered the ultimate worst scenario for Aegon I x Reader?

A Martell!Reader

It’s during the Invasion of Dorne, after Rhaenys’ death, Aegon manages to kidnap the granddaughter of Meria Martell and brings her back to King’s Landing initially as a form of vengeance

But as time goes on the deeper he falls into a twisted obsession. She’s extremely kind and motherly to Aenys, but she never loses that Dornish fire in her and still refuses to bow to him

One day, she’s brought to the Aegonfort expecting another day of humiliation as a hostage, only to her horror to discover it’s her wedding

I have been waiting for this moment...

Ah, the Martells...fcking badasses-

Yes, when Rhaenys died, Aegon thought of burning Dorne entirely, until he spotted from afar, the Princess Y/N Martell, the jewel of Dorne and Meria's favorite granddaughter, you were fierce like your grandmother, but never desired for war nor the death of that Targaryen girl.

But in Aegon's eyes, this was revenge, since they took his wife, he will take their jewel.

You woke up to the feeling of your body being thrown on the hard floor. Even if you were confused, you knew this would happen eventually.

Everyday, you were humiliated by Aegon, in many ways differently. But you kept your composure, you were a Martell and you were determined to honor your house and it's words.

But during your imprisonment, there's one thing that brought you some sort of joy, the little Prince Aenys, who began to enjoy your company as if you were truly his mother, and for you, not only you felt pity over this child, but you also grew to adore him like your son, even if his father tried to bring you down everytime he could.

Now, don't think that Meria would let that slide, once she heard of your kidnapping, many assassination attempts happened against Aegon and Visenya even, many failed.

And after all this time of trying to make you bow to him as the King, Aegon started to get more frustrated and spent most of his time watching you from afar, discovering that you were developing a maternal love for his son, that made him feel something hidden deep inside.

Not too long after, you were dragged in a beautiful gown, you didn't understood what was going on until you met with Aegon and realized what he planned for you this time.

The biggest way to humiliated you.

Being married to him.

#ask #yandere concept #yandere x reader #yandere imagine #a song of ice and fire #house of the dragon #aegon the conqueror x reader #aegon i #aegon the conqueror #worst scenarios #martell!reader

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earenwen-leafwhisper · 10 months

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Marital life

---- Masterlist ---- Rules for request ---

Pairing: Daemon x chubby Martell reader

Abstract: a headcanon on the marital life of Daemon and Martell reader

Author’s note: Hello, to my dear Martell anon☀️ I hope that this headcanon will please you, I gathered here several ideas that I had in mind and the time of all the writings, it would have taken much too much time, so I propose this as an aperitif, if it is good for you. :)

This is the first time I’ve written a headcanon.

-The first days of your engagement announcement were complicated.

-You were running away from him as much as you could rather spend time with your family.

-Daemon on his side was amused by your behaviour, he could see that you were fleeing from him, not out of fear but out of irritability.

-But as you meet with him, you have come to know the prince.

-He was not the most tender, to the extent of mockery; he liked to see you irritated, and to hear you reply with sarcasm.

-The guards had orders to prevent Daemon from meeting you the night before your wedding, so Dornes has more open opinions about free love. Your father knew exactly what Daemon was like.

-It was only after your marriage that you spent your nights together.

-You thought Daemon would only come to your room once for his duty as a husband.

-But he came every night.

-On your first nights together, you watched him, not finding sleep.

-That’s how you began to caress the burning of Daemon, the fresh one, he have during the war against the tryarchy.

-It sometimes awakened Daemon, but he let you do it, finding himself a form of peace in this form of affection.

-Your meeting with Caraxes surprised Daemon.

-Everyone feared the dragon, but when you met him, you spoke to him.

« So you’ve had to put up with him all this time? How do you do it? »

-Caraxes surprised by the fact that you are not afraid of him and that you speak to him, looked at you, leaning slightly to the head.

-When Daemon asked you how it was that you were not afraid of Caraxes, you answered him that Dorne had never fallen in front of the dragons, and that if you died, Dorne would go to war with the rest of Westeros.

-On the first trip to the desert outside the dragon’s back, Daemon refused to wear light colours and traditional Dorne clothing.

-Ill at ease, his leather and black clothes made him so hot that he had to remove them, the leather sticking to his skin.

-The little time he spent in the sun was enough for him to catch a huge sunburn.

-For several days, the mestres had to fight tooth and nail with Daemon to treat him with ointments who was nauseating, but effective.

-One event that melted Daemon for you, was the day when you went to one of the Sunspear markets.

-There, although you are not obliged, you helped as you could some orphans asking for money or food.

-Seeing you so tender and sweet, made Daemon smile, and not in a taunt but sincere way.

-You agreed not to check in on King’s Landing.

-On the one visit, you responded with more than one sarcastic response to Viserys, defending Alicent/Rhaenyra (choose your favourite, or both).

-What damaged the relations of the two brothers, already the second marriage of Daemon, then still marrying Lady Rhea was frowned upon, but your character was even more so.

-Letters from the city were rare, but you lived well in this.

-You had no use for quarrels over the throne.

-Your day was full of your desires.

-Let it be a day in Dorne, in the gardens of the Old Palace.

-Or a trip on the back of Caraxes to Essos.

-The war between the Greens and the blacks did not even touch you.

-You were simply watching, in Dorne’s safety, the rest of Westeros go on fire.

#daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x chubby reader #daemon x chubby reader #daemon targeryen x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon x reader #martell!reader #request #hotd headcanon #house of the dragon headcanon

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chimerathewriter · 1 year

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House Bellgard

Gold in peace, Steel in war

see other aesthetic

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thanyatargaryen · 1 year

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I need more Tywin Lannister …. Preferably with a Tyrell, Lannister, Martell or Stark reader

#tywin x reader #tywin imagine #tywin lannister #game of thrones #house lannister #lannister!reader #tyrell reader #house tyrell #martell!reader #house martell #game of thrones imagine

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oscarisaacsspit · 1 year

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i’ll be like “need him so bad it makes me stupid” and it’s this guy:

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zialltops · 2 months

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but especially when he’s this joel in wranglers & a cowboy hat 😏

#joel miller #pedro pascal #javier peña #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #joel the last of us #joel tlou #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedrohub #pedrostories #oberyn martell #the mandalorian #din djarin

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palioom · 4 months

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little dove

summary: your first attendance of a huge feast is bothersome, alone and inexperienced as you are. until the eyes of a certain prince won't stop following you.

pairing: oberyn martell x f!reader

word count: 4.5k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; virginity/innocence kink; implied age gap (oberyn is in his early 40s, reader early 20s); fingering; unprotected p in v; creampie; some biting

a/n: another fic from last summer, hope you enjoy! ; headers & dividers by @/saradika-graphics

follow @palioomfics & turn on notifs for future updates

• masterlist •

Oberyn had been watching her all night already, his dark eyes following the shape of her wherever she went. Between the bustle of the people, her bright orange glowing dress like the sun, rising and settling as she appeared and disappeared, standing around like she didn’t know what to do with herself.

It was adorable, a smirk gracing his features as he watched her wring her hands, smiling sheepishly when someone approached her.

So innocent.

He could see the nervousness on her face from where he sat, the uncertainty, clearly not used to people approaching her.

He could see the heavy rise and fall of her chest, exposed by the deep cut of her garments.

Taking another sip of his wine, Oberyn stood, deciding now was his time.

The festivities had been going on for a while, and even though he had planned on celebrating with a group of people in his bedchambers later, she had thrown those plans into the wind the second he set sight on her.

Something just intrigued him, maybe it was the innocence she seemed to harbour, maybe it was her beauty.

Whatever it was, he had to know more, waiving away another woman that approached him with a polite smile, then walking over to the mysterious woman.

She looked around nervously, playing with the rings on her hands as people passed by her, some stopping to talk to her.

Feeling incredibly out of place at this feast, her first big one, she didn't quite know what to do. Her parents were somewhere, as were her siblings.

The lords trying to speak to her made her feel uneasy, knowing she was supposed to find a possible suitor at some point, but wanting nothing more than to flee this place.

In fact, she was thinking about just leaving, when she was approached again.

Tall, dark haired and handsome. The Prince of Dorne, Oberyn Martell.

She had seen him at his table, stealing a glance every once in a while and looking away when his dark eyes caught hers.

And now he stood in front of her, flashing her a wide smile.

“My Prince.” She said, curtsying as well as she could, perhaps a little clumsily.

Out of everything she had expected to happen today, she did not expect for him to approach her.

“Do you intend to sulk in the shadows all night, my dove?”

She blinked up at him, once again playing with the rings on her fingers.

“I have not been sulking.” A frown graced her face, a slight tremble in her voice. His presence was intimidating, but different from the other people who had approached her. “I have been observing.”

Oberyn chuckled, taking a small step closer to her, watching her step back just a little in return. So close to her, he could practically feel the nervosity radiating off of her, trying to hold eye contact before they moved away again, looking at anything but him.

“Observing by turning down all lords and ladies who approach you?” He said, watching her fingers stop for just a moment, as if she had been caught, before fiddling with her rings again. “I must admit, I have been watching you for a while - you are the only lady not dancing, not talking to anyone. Just standing in your corner, sometimes moving to follow the servants for a drink or something to eat.”

She stayed quiet. Had she been that noticeable? Just by standing around, hoping for a saving grace?

“I assume this to be your first attendance at a feast this big, am I correct, my dove?”

That nickname.

It made her feel warm, a different kind of warmth than the Dornish weather. Running through her in an unfamiliar fashion, her veins like molten metal, a strange feeling moving up her spine..

“Yes, my Prince.” She said, nodding, but not looking at him.

Oberyn noticed how she became more nervous, smirking at the display in front of him.

“My parents have kept me from them for long, I was only ever allowed to attend small ones.” She continued, sighing. “It is quite overwhelming. I am inexperienced in these kinds of things.”

Her words made him inhale sharply through his nose, still smiling.

If she was inexperienced in this, what else was she inexperienced in?

He had wanted her before, but now the desire for her burned even brighter. Oberyn wanted to show her the things her parents have undoubtedly sheltered her from.

To keep their daughter pure for a potential suitor.

“I understand, my dove. Would you perhaps allow me to accompany you to a place more quiet?”

Usually, he did not beat around the bush when it came to a potential partner for the night.

But it was different with her. If he was blunt he would simply chase her away.

She didn’t look at him, thinking about his question.

All the other men and women that had asked before had made her feel uneasy. Unsure why they wanted to whisk her away, promising a better night someplace else.

But the Prince of Dorne? He made her feel different. A heat and a pressure in her abdomen that she never felt before.

She knew of the rumours, that he took many partners, for whatever they did. Yet, as he stood in front of her, charming smile and good looks, she felt herself drawn to him.

Oberyn reached out, placing a finger under her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “I asked you a question, my dove.”

His fingers on her chin made her still, just looking up at him with her big eyes, lips slightly parted. The touch made that pressure worse, breath hitching in her throat.

“My Prince, I’m-” She stumbled over her words, unsure what to answer.

He just chuckled, a sigh leaving him. “You are quite easily flustered, my dove. Come with me, please.”

Holding out his arm for her to take, he hoped she would. Such an innocent, pretty thing. There was something so endearing about the way she was behaving.

She swallowed hard, looking from his face to his arm, hesitating for a moment. Something drew her to him, and after another moment, she hooked her arm into his with a nervous smile.

Oberyn walked her away from the feast, the noises dying down behind them as they walked the long corridors.

“What did the other lords and ladies ask of you, my dove?”

She sighed, glad to be away from the bustle in the halls, but feeling uncertain now, a throbbing at the apex of her thighs distracting her.

“They wished to take me away for some fun. I’m unsure what they meant exactly.” She didn’t look at him, too nervous to meet his dark, piercing eyes.

It was intimidating, she had never been in the presence of a man other than her father or her brothers alone. She knew how to behave, for the most part, but nonetheless was it a little scary.

Oberyn smirked, looking down to her, seeing how she only stared at the floor or ahead of them.

“You did not know what they were implying?” He asked, a bit amused but genuinely curious. “My little dove, you must be younger than I thought or your parents simply were too careless with your education.”

She remained quiet, her cheeks growing hot.

A sense of shame washed over her, that he thought she was too young. It was as if her friends were with her, giggling and whispering because of something she didn’t understand.

And when she asked, they never explained, finding it too amusing to laugh and belittle her.

There was something she was missing out on, and she hated not knowing what.

“My dove, you do not have to be ashamed.” He said, his other hand coming to gently rest on hers. “If you wish, I could show you.”

He had been right about the assumptions of her being a virgin, too innocent for her own good.

Walking next to her, he felt something else besides the desire for her, a need to protect.

As if he was the only one allowed to show her, that anyone else would simply take advantage of this fact.

Now her eyes met his, brows furrowed.

“Show me?” She echoed his words. “How? What exactly?”

Oberyn just smiled, eyes leaving hers to look at the guards standing by the door of his chambers.

He stopped, not too far away from the door, looking back at her.

“Do you wish for me to show you, my dove?” He asked, brushing back a strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear. “If not, I understand.”

She should be wary. Despite him being the Prince of Dorne, she should think about this. But she was curious, so curious about what this thing was that she had been missing out on.

And there was still that feeling inside of her.

“Yes, my Prince.” She said with a small nod. “I am curious, please.”

He chuckled, his knuckles brushing over her cheek. “Please, call me Oberyn, my dove.”

Moving along, the guards allowed them to enter, the heavy door falling shut behind them. Oberyn let go of her arm, walking over to a table to pour himself some wine, then offering her a cup.

She took it with a small nod, taking in his quarters. They were richly decorated, the bed massive.

Just how she would imagine it, if she had ever spent time on that before meeting him.

Taking a sip of her wine, Oberyn laid a hand on her waist with a gentle smile, pulling her closer to him.

“Most people stare when they first come here.” He said, his hand wandering up and down her side. “Don’t be nervous, little dove.”

She nodded, swallowing hard. That was easier said than done, the heat inside her becoming unbearable at this point.

His hand on her side felt like it was burning her, even through the thin fabric of her gown. Like it was hot coals placed on her.

“Have you ever been kissed, my dove?” He asked suddenly, eyes searching hers. Pulling her just a little closer to him.

She shook her head no, slowly. Heart beating in her throat, he was so close to her.

She could feel the warmth of him, twirling the cup of wine in her hand.

“Would you allow me to?”

There was some hesitation inside her, her hands stilling. Should she allow him to? She wanted to, somehow.

Often had she imagined what it felt like, kissing someone.

Her answer came in the form of a nod, her head barely moving.

Oberyn smiled, his hand coming up to cup her cheek.

“Oh, my little dove.”

Despite his growing desire, he moved gently, bending down to place his lips onto hers. The small gasp that left her made him chuckle, his other hand coming to rest on her hip and pull her hips flush against his.

She stiffened beneath his touch, liking the way his lips felt on hers, surprisingly soft, while his beard and moustache tickled her skin. Holding onto her cup tightly, she closed her eyes, humming when he deepened the kiss and she tried to match his movements, clumsy and inexperienced.

When he parted from her, she chased after him, opening her eyes when she couldn’t. Oberyn laughed at that, staying close to her, his thumb brushing over her cheek.

She looked adorable, the way she greedily breathed in air, lips slightly parted. Still too nervous, too stiff.

“What do you think, my dove?” He asked, leaning closer again so their noses were almost touching. “Would you like for me to show you more? There is quite an array of things I could assist you with.”

His fingers curled into her hip, and when she nodded, he only smiled wider.

“I promise to be gentle, my dove. A beauty such as you needs to be handled with care.”

She didn’t know what he meant, but it didn’t matter, because as soon as he kissed her again, more eager this time, her mind went blank.

His hand briefly left her hip to take the cup from her hands, placing it on the table next to them, before it was back, pulling her against his chest and making her gasp.

Letting his tongue glide against hers at the opportunity, Oberyn heard her muffled moan, relishing in the sweet sound.

The way she tried to kiss him back was delightful, so tender and new, trying to keep up with him.

Slowly he manoeuvred her back towards the bed, having to hold onto her waist as her steps became unsure, stumbling backwards once, her cheeks glowing even hotter.

The throbbing only became more intense, and when they reached the bed and he gently pushed her to sit at the foot of it, she squeezed her thighs together, looking for relief.

There was a wetness now that felt foreign to her.

Oberyn noticed, amused at the display.

“Are you aching, my dove?” He asked, his hands coming to the belt tied around his waist.

Aching.

It did hurt, but in a different way. Not like a bruise or a cut.

She nodded. “A little. My Prince- Oberyn, what- I don’t understand what is happening.”

Poor thing. Her parents had done a horrible job to prepare their daughter.

To leave her in the dark at such an age.

She watched him undo his belt, letting it fall to the floor before motioning for her to move further back to the middle of the bed.

“You’re aroused, my dove. You feel the need for cock.” He explained, shedding his robe, then crawling over her. “Have you seen a cock before, little dove?”

Her mouth went dry as she watched him undress, now only clad in a dark orange tunic and his breeches.

Aroused.

Of course. But was she really aroused by him? In need of his cock?

She nodded, and she could see a flash of surprise grace his features.

“In the bathhouses, yes.” She tried to hold his gaze, now hovering over her and letting his hand glide down her side. “From afar.”

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her cheek, then her neck, hearing the breathy moan spill from her lips, feeling her back arch slightly.

“In the bathhouses…” He repeated in a whisper, still some amusement in his voice. “Yet you don’t know a thing about this… about desire and fucking.”

The word felt vulgar, so close to her ear.

And she felt embarrassed again. That she didn’t know more, that she didn’t understand she was aroused just by him being near her, by him kissing her, by him hovering over her.

“Do you want me to show you, my dove? The thrill of desire?” He asked, still mouthing along her neck, gently, just feeling her as she squirmed, her own hands coming to rest on his broad shoulders. “How to fuck?”

Her breath hitched in her throat when he sucked at the junction of her neck and shoulder, a throaty moan leaving her.

“I- I do not know, Oberyn.” She stammered, fingers digging into his shoulders. The throbbing and the pressure were distracting her, just needing relief. “It hurts, it really hurts.”

His hand moved lower, down her side and to her thigh, gathering her skirts before it dipped below them.

“I can help you, my dove.” His hand wandered between her thighs, finding her dripping already, a soft sound escaping him at the feeling. “Oh, my dove. Wet and gushing like a waterfall and I have barely touched you.”

He sounded pitying almost, his fingers slipping between her folds, raising his head to watch her face when he found her clit.

A hiss left her, looking at him with wide eyes at the foreign feeling. It felt good, strange but good.

“Have you never touched yourself before? Brought yourself to the peak of pleasure?” He asked, drawing slow circles into her clit, with featherlight touches.

She shook her head, trying to keep her eyes open, her legs opening further.

“Never, I didn’t know-”

“You poor thing.” He cooed, kissing her.

When his fingers left her again, she whined in protest, one of her hands reaching out to grab his wrist.

She didn’t even really know what was happening, simply that his touch felt good and that she wanted more.

Needed more.

The burning sensation inside her was so consuming and overwhelming while also hurting her.

“Oberyn, please, continue.” She said, guiding his hand back down but he escaped her grasp.

“Do you know anything about this, my dove? About fucking, the feeling of something stretching you open? Feeling somebody’s naked skin against yours?”

Stretching her open? It sounded painful, she couldn’t imagine how anything could do that, and where.

But she didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to embarrass herself further.

She shook her head again. “No, I don’t.”

He chuckled, his hand coming up to tug one of the straps of her gown down her shoulder, then further down her arm, exposing her breast.

“My little dove, so innocent, so pure.” A sigh left him, watching her face as he touched her breast, just lightly brushing over the hardened nipple. Nothing could have prepared him for just how much her innocence spurred him on. “I will take care of you, just allow me to do so.”

“Please, please, Oberyn.” She whined, desperate. His hand felt good on her, back arching off the bed and into his touch, her head thrown back as she closed her eyes.

This was what she had missed out on, something so good and intense. If only he could touch her again.

Slowly Oberyn undressed her, slipping the garment down her body and kissing each inch of newly uncovered skin. Taking in how she whined and moaned, took in a sharp breath or hissed at the sensation.

She felt exposed, once he sat back and pulled the gown down her legs, his dark eyes raking over her naked form as she laid before him, resisting the urge to cover herself.

So sweet and pure. And he would be the one to ruin her, to taint her beautiful body.

Thank the Gods it was him and not someone else.

“So pretty.” He said, a hand gliding up and down her thigh, the other working open his tunic. “My little dove, all for me to enjoy. I shall show you the heights of pleasure.”

She watched as he shed the garment, exposing his toned torso, the muscles under his skin moving. She was mesmerized, despite having seen this so many times at the bathhouses, when she came to find her siblings or her parents.

His hands moved down to his breeches, opening them just as slowly as he had done with the rest of his clothing.

“It seems as if my little dove has found something she likes.” He chuckled, shedding the last piece of clothing, kneeling between her spread legs, just as exposed as she was.

Cock heavy and throbbing, her eyes were fixed on it.

It was bigger than what she had seen before. But she didn’t know if she should mind that.

“Don’t be scared, my dove.” Oberyn said, moving to hover over her again, one hand on her thigh, his cock brushing against her stomach. “I’ll prepare you to take me.”

“Take me?” She asked, gasping when his hand found that sweet spot again, applying more pressure this time and leaving her breathless.

He hummed against her neck, kissing and sucking on her skin, taking in her sweet sounds.

So adorable, needing to be taught. Not knowing what pleasures awaited her.

His hand moved lower and he felt how she stiffened when one finger pressed against her hole.

“Don’t be scared…” He repeated, slowly pushing a single digit in, groaning when he felt her squeeze around him, her nails digging into his shoulders with a whine.

It felt strange, his thick finger inside of her, moving in and out slowly. Yet it also felt good, her hips rolling on their own, legs opening wider.

“Oberyn-” She moaned, voice breaking, the pressure inside her easing just a little.

His mouth found hers again, continuing to move his finger slowly, his cock twitching at the thought of burying himself inside her soon.

“Tell me how it feels, little dove. You might be ready for another finger soon.”

She whined, concentrating on the foreign feeling, the stretch when he pushed a second finger in.

“It feels good, my Prince- Oberyn.” She breathed, her mind feeling as if it was floating on a cloud, hissing when he scissored his fingers inside of her. “It hurts a little, but it feels good.”

He chuckled, kissing her cheek and down to her jaw, then down her neck again.

“My dove, you feel splendid, gripping my fingers so tight with your sweet cunt.”

Something inside her built, blood hot like molten metal as it rushed through her, building her higher and higher until he took his fingers from her again.

A noise of protest died in her throat, his teeth softly sinking into her shoulder.

He grinned at that, lifting his head to look at her, bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a deep hum.

“Finer than any wine.” Oberyn said, positioning himself so his cock was lined up with her. “My dove, I promise to be gentle. It may sting nonetheless.”

She nodded, drowsy and wanting nothing more than this ache to end. He said his cock would help, and so she wished for nothing more than him to enter her where his fingers just had been.

“Please, help me relieve this ache.” She said, feeling him against her, so much thicker than his fingers.

Oberyn watched as he entered her, grunting at how tight she still was, seeing her eyes squeeze shut and take a sharp breath.

It stung, he hadn’t lied about that, his lips finding hers as he pushed in further, muffling her whimpers while he buried inch after inch inside of her.

All the way until he was fully sheathed inside of her, hips flush against hers, one of his hands coming to rest on her thigh, squeezing it gently.

“It hurts, Oberyn.” She breathed when he broke from her, looking back at him, his lips on her cheek again.

“I know, my dove. You will feel better soon, don’t you worry.”

It was so new, the sensation of being filled, of him inside of her and stretching her out just as he had said.

Overwhelming, someone being so close to her, inside of her, his hot skin against hers, his soft lips on her cheeks.

The pain slowly fading into a need, the throbbing returning, as did the pressure.

Her hips moving on their own, making him chuckle, the sound vibrating against her chest.

“Are you sure you wish to continue already, my dove?” He asked, kissing a spot just below her ear that sent a shiver through her. “I cannot stop myself if we do, your cunt is simply too tight and inviting.”

She nodded, whispering a silent please.

So he slowly pulled back, setting a lazy rhythm of shallow thrusts, her dragged out moans like music to his ears, a little symphony written just for him as he drove back into her over and over again.

“You feel perfect, my dove, what an honour to teach you about the pleasures of the flesh.” Oberyn groaned, his hands grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his hips, making her whimper loudly. “You won’t find a nicer cunt than that of this little virgin dove.”

She let him move, rolling her hips, trying to meet his thrusts, that something inside her building again, becoming stronger this time.

If this really was what she had been missing out on, what she had been ridiculed for, she never wanted it to stop now that she had it.

The feeling pleasant as the ache became less and less present.

Oberyn had to hold back to not just drive into her with his entire force, losing himself in how good she felt, but still wanting this to be something good for her, as much as he desired her.

Already knowing he would seek her out again and again, her innocence far from gone, her sounds so sweet in his ears, her hands so soft as they grabbed at him, trying to find purchase on his body.

“My dove, you are close, I can feel you.” He rasped, his movements becoming sloppier, lips dancing over her skin. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

“Close to what?” She asked, words catching on her breath, feeling something but unsure if it was what he meant.

Gods, she was so adorable.

“Oh, you will see, my dove.”

His hand moved between them, finding her clit.

And with just a few movements, something snapped inside of her so suddenly and with such force that all breath left her, a strangled noise catching in her chest as her veins burned, the pressure in her abdomen released.

She was trembling, holding him against her tightly as he kept moving, thrusts harsher now.

“There you are, my little dove, isn’t that wonderful? The heights, the peak?”

It was a pretty sight, her face contorted in bliss and pleasure but also so shocked by what was happening to her, by these new feelings.

She could only whine, falling silent when she heard him grunt deeply into her ear, stilling above her.

Spilling himself deep inside of her before rolling off of her, not separating but rolling her with him so she came to rest on top of him.

She felt exhausted suddenly, the euphoric feelings still coursing through her veins.

And he felt solid beneath her body, catching his breath just as she did, his hands carding through her hair.

“Now, my dove, how do you feel?” He asked, watching her face as she rested on him. “Are you satisfied?”

If anyone had told her just a few hours ago that she would land in the bed of the Prince of Dorne, she would have laughed at them.

But now, it seemed quite nice.

She nodded. “I feel exhausted, but I am very grateful for what you showed me.”

A smile stretched her lips wide, he liked it. She seemed to be less nervous.

He chuckled, one hand wandering down to smooth over her back. Normally he would be far from done, already planning another round of pleasure.

But she truly seemed too exhausted by this. After all, she hadn’t even known about any of this until now.

Her eyes drifted shut, but she was still awake, listening to his heartbeat.

“Oh, my dove.” He said quietly, kissing the top of her head. “There is so much more to show you, I am far from done with you.”

She felt warm at the idea, curious what else there was to discover. Her eyes felt too heavy to open them again, slowly drifting off into sleep on top of him.

Oberyn simply smiled, sighing deeply.

Yes, he was far from done.

There was so much to learn, so much to discover.

And he couldn’t wait to see her face once he began to truly teach his little dove.

#oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell smut #oberyn martell x you #game of thrones #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedrostories #my writing

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puchosdementa · 1 year

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i luv him guys this is real

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biggestsimponhere · 1 year

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“I'd never sing of love if it does not exist, but darling, you are the only exception”

Once again this man is so hug shaped and i need a hug

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the-djarin-clan · 1 year

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📸| Photoshoot for Esquire magazine - Norman Jean Roy

I wasn't ready for this….

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alannybunnue · 1 year

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No but Jaime x a Princess Martell

After killing the Mad King, Tywin manages to get Jaime released from his King’s Guard vows and reinstated as his heir. And after what happened to Elia, Jaime is betrothed to a Martell!Reader to try and settle tensions with Dorne.

The reader and Jaime had met once before when the Martells visited Casterly Rock to negotiate a potential marriage pact. Jaime developed a bit of a crush on her and was disappointed when the talks didn’t go anywhere.

Jaime feels extreme guilt over what happened to Elia and her children. He was supposed to protect them, he had no idea his father would’ve order such a thing while he was trying to save the city.

These two factors combine to make Jaime an extremely overprotective husband, he watches over her and their children all hours and the day and never lets them out of his sight.

My god, that's something pretty sad and sweet at the same time.

Like Jaime having the guilt of Elia's death making his obsession and paranoia just way worse to the point that he can't bare to stay away from his wife and kids for long.

I mean, I'm glad that at least he's not being controlled by Cersei, but the idea itself is very sad 😔

Let's hope the best for this family

Also, i bet loads of cash that Oberyn doesn't leave him alone after the Lannisters took two of his sisters in different ways 💀

#ask #yandere concept #a song of ice and fire #yandere x reader #house of the dragon #yandere imagine #house lannister #jaime lannister #house martell #martell!reader #oberyn martell

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earenwen-leafwhisper · 1 year

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My Dear Author! first, thank you so much for "Dragon and sun" I loved it!!! Second, I love "Martell anon"(you can refer to me as that if you want)😍😍😍😍 and I can't wait to read your other thoughts on it. stay safe ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Life in Dorne

Pairing: Daemon x Fem chubby Martell reader

Summarize: A brief example of the life of Prince Daemon and his wife Y/n Martell

Trigger warning: English is not my native language, so if there are any mistakes I’m sorry I would correct them.

Author’s note: hello, Martell anon (okay, it will be officially your nickname then ^-^ )

I took some time to write the rest of your request, you just have to be a little patient for the Nsfw Headcanon:)

I hope you like it, oh and the gif will probably be temporary, I hesitate to draw an illustration, it’s been so long that I didn’t draw but I have an idea in mind so I’ll see.

The house Martell had never accepted an alliance with the house Targaryen, but at the end of the war between the Triarchy and Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lord Corlys Velaryon. The house had no choice.

The Martells had taken a stand for the Triarchy, for three years they had helped them with the delivery of food and men, they were not faithful to King Viserys, the putrid smell of venom was brewing, the king was weak and this war only confirmed that. They expected resistance from the Velaryons, but the coming of Prince Daemon was more devastating, as was defeat.

At the end of the war against the Velaryons, a tribute had to be offered by the House of Martell, as a token of goodwill and thus preventing a more open war with Westeros. That tribute was you.

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Daemon and Corlys after the fall of the Triarchy went to Dorne, the discussions were heated, Prince Qoren refused to bend, he was not afraid of his two men, he was ready to bring down any dragon coming too close to the cities of Dorne.

As the second in the line of succession, you watched the scene, the three men and several guards were seated in the middle of the gardens, they were not wearing armor but the colours of their respective houses, in your heart, Your father had to negotiate. From the balcony where you were sitting, you could see Lord Corlys talking with your father, he was straight on the chair, almost too much to compare to Prince Daemon who was driving a cup of wine in his hand into the back of his chair. He looked into the void and seemed to you not to listen to the conversation, until the moment when his gaze lingered on the decorations of the outer walls, the gaze attracting him by a reflection of light. One of your gold jewels reflected a bit of sunshine as you moved to get a better view of what was happening. The prince saw you, smiled and took a sip of wine while looking at you.

Your first real face-to-face meeting was a few hours later and was quite spicy. It was rare to see a woman of the Martell family being more chubby, it had intrigued her, he appreciated the fact that you accept your body at least he appreciated the great cleavage that slowly revealed the birth of your breasts and your stomach, Unlike the other women he used to meet, you were not impressed to see him, answering him several times with sarcasm. At times several of your answers made him laugh, which surprised you, because although all the members of your family were accustomed to your rare sarcasm were those who understood him to the point of laughing.

Corlys’s stay lasted only a week, while Daemon decided to stay longer. The negotiations were not over, but it did not matter to him.

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If at the beginning Daemon was unpleasant, this feeling was gradually changed, the prince took time every day to talk to you, read a book or propose to accompany you on one of your trips to the cities of Dorne. You were different and he liked it a lot.

In a few months, servants had found you talking, laughing, holding your hand, or even late at night, while offering the meal, sitting on one of the balconies, Daemon’s arm around your hips while you had your head against his shoulder. Prince Qoren, your father, learned from one of the guards, your little adventures and your closeness. At the end of the year, your marriage was celebrated in the Temple of the Seven of the Sunspear.

Five years later, the servants feared Daemon, for woe was to him who interrupted every fleshly moment between you two.

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A smell of orange blossom and incense floated in the corridors of the Old Palace, servants dressed in yellow walked the corridors, some wore silk fabrics, others of large trays on which were placed silver cups lined with gilded decoration, as well as a teapot richly decorated, on other trays were found food, such as sweet rolls with orange, date or almond, salted bread tasted of olive or spice, there were also cupcakes composed of wheat semolina and lemon, as well as fruits, such as pomegrenade or blood orange.

The rays of the sun reflected slightly on the ceramic tiles that covered the walls of the palace, giving touches of color to the spaces painted in a creamy white the rest of the walls, warming at the same time the corridors that became cold during the night. The servants had to wake up the Martell family, from the prince in title, to the children, asking them if they would like to have breakfast with their family or in their rooms. Several times the servants had come across funny situations, like the day when one of them had discovered Prince Qoren sleeping on the ground, his wife having pushed him into his sleep. They were not embarrassed to see such a situation, the older ones having even come face to face with some rather torrid scene, but did not flinch.

Leyla, your servant, stood in front of the door of your common room at Daemon and you, looking at the guards, silently asking them as usual if you were present and at best asleep. The guards dressed in traditional yellow clothes with golden painted pattern of sun, nodded. Leyla raised her hand and knocked three times, a silence answered her, and she decided to open the door.

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The rays of the sun began to cross the fine curtains, echoing against the large mirror of the room, you had placed the yellow silk sheet above your head, blondening yourself against the naked torso of Daemon. Her body was hot, but not a stifling hot, no, it was a welcoming warmth, the one that made you think of the ray of a rising sun after a long icy night. You passed one of your bounced legs above his, Daemon breathed calmly that rested you, rare were the moments when you woke up before him, you gently placed one of your hands on the scar that was on his shoulder and neck, Caressing the marks formed by the burn, his skin had a different touch, than the rest of his body, but this was part of him and you had learned to love each of the facets of Daemon. Whether it was his body or his personality. You laid soft kisses on his chest, weary and half asleep.

"Hmm... hello ñuha jorrāelagon."

"Good morning, love."

Your words were only whispering, Daemon with his eyes ajar, had pulled up the silk sheet, and was barely watching you wake up. You put yourself on your forearm, helping you to go up to her face. Daemon dropped the sheet to put his hand on your cheek, caressing her. He went to speak but was interrupted by the noise on the door.

Daemon looked up at the skies, sighing. He preferred the Old Palace to the Red Keep, whether by your presence alone, but also because there was no constant play for his brother’s throne, there was a form of peace that had settled in Daemon, but one of the things he couldn’t bear was revivals. The only days when the servants did not come to wake them were at the beginning of their marriage. They were so because Daemon threatened the poor serve a very painful and rapid death, to translate into a name, Caraxes.

The door opened, on your servant Leyla, seeing you awake, she bowed.

"Good morning, my prince and princess."

"Hello Leyla" You stood up, while Daemon sighed

"Prince Qoren your father invites you to have breakfast at his ribs on the large balcony. He wishes to speak with you about your future stay in Godgrace."

"Well we will be present."

Leyla bowed once more, before slipping away to warn your father. You were getting ready to get out of bed, feeling Daemon’s right hand fondling your back. You would never have thought that Daemon could openly accept how much you were touch starved and even less that this one took to your touch, only on rare occasions you do not touch your hands at least. You got up and dressed a minimum before the return of Leyla, although the clothes worn in Dorne were lighter, they were not less easier to put on, but much easier to remove.

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"Prince Daemon, my daughter."

Qoren was sitting on one of the carved wooden chairs covered with gold leaf and orange-coloured tapestries. On the round wooden table were trays of food and drink.

"Sit down."

Your father with a gesture of his hand pointed out the two chairs in front of him, looking to your right you could see the citrus gardens and flowers of the inner courtyard. You were spying on your future husband from the same balcony.

Your father, although he does not like Daemon, had learned to support him, the prince made you happy and as long as he continued, he was not to plan the slaughter of a dragon in flight. Which was partly reassuring. What pleased your father was that Daemon agreed to adapt to Dorne’s clothing, at the same time wearing black and clothing close to the body in several layers did not help to stay hydrated in the desert. You liked to see Daemon dress up in the orange-yellow colors of your house, although dragon patterns were always drawn in places or scale patterns, these were alongside small patterns painted with sun, just as your dresses were embroidered and painted with the same patterns as your husband’s. Your clothes were very often composed of silk, satin or linen, unlike Westeros, the patterns were hand-painted and not embroidered, although Daemon had to keep embroidery touches on his clothes. He always kept touches of black in his way of dressing thus keeping a Targaryen touch. Your dresses were much more revealing than he used to see nobles dress, they were much more neat and distinguished to be considered a girl of joy, but sufficiently cleavage in places to make any young and not so young men blush.

The dress he preferred on you was a long dress with a yellow orange to golden gradient, without sleeve, the back was covered but the two drapers from the shoulders covered your breasts while letting appear the embrasure of your breasts. The base part of your dress started at your stomach, went down to your ankles, a long slit went up from your ankle to half of your thigh. This allowed Daemon to access the skin of your thigh more easily lord of the long dinners you attended at times. Although some people in Westeros would have found this inappropriate outfit for a real woman, you and Daemon didn’t care, you liked it, you looked beautiful in it and that was all that mattered.

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You were sitting to the left of Daemon, your left hand on your cup of tea/water/fruit juice and your right hand on Daemon’s thigh, watching your father talk about the future trip, explaining that several guards would escort you.

"Don’t forget not to insult any noble you come across." Your father looked at you very seriously.

"I have nerver insulted anyone."

"You forget Lord Dayne of Starfall’s bride."

"I have simply described her, accurately. It’s not my fault she’s narcissistic and can’t have a conversation for more than two minutes before she talks about herself."

Your father sighed while Daemon smiled in the corner while drinking his dornish reds cup (a wine produced in Dorne). The wind was blowing gently, twirling the branches of the trees, carrying with it an orange smell. Your father looked away, wondering how a diplomatic problem had so far never been declared by your sarcasm and confidence.

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The caravan composed of several riders of the princely guard, as well as some merchants, walked through the main’s pass. They were barely visible from the heights where Caraxes flew. Daemon had persuaded you to ride on the dragon’s back, the trip would take you less time than the week to ride in the desert and would be much more enjoyable.

It was grasping at his back that you looked as much as you could at the scenery around you. The vision of the place was very different, it allowed you to see the peaks of the Red Mountains, to see the road draw by the walking of the different caravans, you could see the river that covered a short distance in the lands of your family. Demonstrating how scarce water was in the land. You understood much more why water was much more precious than gold in Dorne, although having always been aware of this fact, it seemed slightly abstract to you.

The fresh air of the heights contrasted with the constant heat of the desert, you would have been against Daemon to try to warm yourself and protect yourself from the wind, The grunt of Caraxes would have been almost restful if you were accustomed to such a journey. Daemon had Caraxes nose down, you held on to him, uttering a small cry that remained trapped in your mouth as the change of course was abrupt, he made the dragon fly close to the ground, spanking the sand behind you. Daemon laughed, you held him with great force, he brought the dragon up to the heights, heard you talking to him, that he would sleep on the floor of your room if he started again without warning you.

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Godgrace was destroyed during the conquest of Aegon and his sisters, had been rebuilt, several stalls were selling spices and fruits from Essos. A strong smell of spice reigned in the air, there were also sellers of carpets, clothes, jewelry and kitchen utensils. The houses had ochre and earth colors of his, the paths were composed of large stone extracted from the Red Mountains they had red colors, but was attenuated by the sand that the travelers loaded. Caravans of merchants and travellers stopped at the gates of the small city. The streets were made up of small houses that had at least one floor, their roofs were flat, which allowed for many inhabitants to have a terrace on which the women spread the linen, or to have meals in the evening under the starry sky, and to have interactions between neighbors. As you went down, you could hear faintly the people below you live their lives.

It was both different from the Sunspear while being familiar, the architecture of the palace where you settled was almost identical to that of the Old Palace, the only majority difference was the colors, blue and gold unlike the yellow of your family.

Your luggage had arrived a week in advance allowing the servants to prepare everything for your arrival, the Allyrion house inhabiting places were honored to have you as a guest, It changed the visit of your father or your older sister Aliandra who was the heiress in title. He knew your outspokenness and the rumors surrounding Daemon’s character.

Lord Allyrion did everything possible to make your arrival as pleasant as it could be musicians playing the Oud, dancers, entertaining you in the large living room, wine from King’s Landing to please Daemon was rumored that he didn’t like Essos wine and barely liked Dorne’s.

Golden yellow fabrics as well as red you have been offered as a gift and token of goodwill of the lord. After all your negotiations were aimed at helping to protect the caravans when exchanging quantity of water and food for areas a little further away and thus avoiding any uprising of the people under his gaze and protection.

The large doors of dark wood, engraved and decorated with orange blossoms bordered with gold leaves, closed on Lord Allyrion who stood in front of Daemon and you, your husband had his right hand in the hollow of your kidneys and his left hand on dark sister. Your future agreements could begin.

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Translation:

My love / ñuha jorrāelagon

Tag list : @starkleila

#daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x chubby reader #daemon x chubby reader #daemon targeryen x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon x reader #martell!reader

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chimerathewriter · 1 year

Text

Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken

see other aesthetics

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quicksilversg1rl · 1 year

Text

THIS IS SO BABYGIRL OF HIM WHAT THE FUCK😭

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fluff #the last of us #joel miller #oberyn martell #javier pena #narcos

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fooled-around-and-fell · 1 year

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Can you write a one shot with Daddy Pascal? They have an age gap of 20 years and she’s super nervous to go public with him cause she’s afraid that his fans won’t like her? And he comfort her

A/n: hell yes I can, and hopefully you'll like this. Also this gif is freaking hot.

Pairing: Pedro Daddy Pascal x reader

second part || Masterlist

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"It's not that easy."

"It is." Pedro stood closer to you. "I just want to be able to call you mine in public."

You sighed, gnawing on the peeling skin of your lips, something you do when nervous. "I.. I can't."

"What?"

"I can't, I'm sorry.. I just.. I can't. Not now."

Pedro couldn't believe his ears. Both of you have been together for two years, and this has been the one thing Pedro wanted. But he kept it a secret for you, because of the age gap, because he knew you weren't ready.

But now after two years.. you're still not ready.. so what now?

---

That conversation was a week ago. Pedro got pretty upset after that, wouldn't really call you when he's on break, wouldn't tell you if he's coming home, wouldn't call you pet names -- but you understood. Pedro was justifiably upset, but you didn't think it was a good idea to go public at the moment. And it's all because of-

Pedro shut the door with a soft thud and was surprised to see you lying on the couch on your phone.

"Hey. You're still awake?" He asked, though you're obviously still are.

"Yeah, I was just browsing social media." You gave him a little smile.

Pedro nodded and proceeded to go to your shared room. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes did not go unnoticed by you, and the way he was walking tells you he was probably from a nightclub.

It's not like you two had to report your location or schedule at all times, but usually going to a nightclub is something you tell your partner.

You shook your head, not wanting to overthink it, but your thoughts kept coming back to it, and so you followed him to the bedroom and asked him.

"Were you out clubbing?"

Pedro sighed and undressed, ready to go shower. "Yeah, it was a last minute thing with some coworkers. Sorry I forgot to tell you."

"'S okay." You offered another small smile.

Ignored. Pedro walked past you to the bathroom.

As he was showering, you wondered how you should talk to Pedro about going public. It's not like you didn't want to, but have you seen the amount of fans Pedro has?

The amount of people that call him daddy, that make edits of his movies, his interviews? The amount of people who love him?

And if they find out that he's dating someone who's about 20 years younger than he is, what would happen to him? Would he be accused of grooming? Would his fans understand?

You didn't realize how long you've been standing at the same spot until Pedro gently touched your back after his shower.

"Cariño, are you feeling okay?"

Cariño.

You looked at him and exhaled. "Can we talk?"

Pedro had a feeling he knew what you wanted to say. He sighed and sat on the bed, with only his damp towel hugging his waist.

"So, have you decided I'm too old for you?"

You frowned, "what?"

"Let me guess, it's been fun but you want to find someone who's closer to your age? Or is it because you realized this lifestyle isn't for you?"

You felt a little hurt. Did Pedro really think you're going to break up with him because of this? "Pedro, I'm not breaking up with you."

"Then what is it? I've been holding back mentioning your name during interviews when they ask me if I have someone I love, and yes, I do - It's you! I love you, so so much. I want to be able to bring you to places, show you off - I know it's probably a lot to ask, but cariño... I.." he sighed, unable to finish his sentence.

He was obviously frustrated, and this was mostly the aftermath of the alcohol talking. You sat next to him and held his hand.

"I'm scared." You admitted.

"Cariño-"

"Do you know how many videos of you are out there? Ones that your fans make, some even edit them from interviews from years ago. Or how many fanfictions there are of you? Or just the amount of fans you have that worship you day and night?"

You looked at him, worry in your eyes. "They all love you and look up to you so much, and so do I. I don't want to.. to ruin your life because we're going public. We have a huge age gap between us, that doesn't normally sit well with people."

"I also want to show everyone you're mine.. you know how ugly jealous I get when I see some of your costars flirting with you on the red carpet." You placed a hand on his cheek.

Pedro chuckled, leaning into your touch. "I guess I hadn't thought about that part.."

He pulled you closer to sit on his lap, his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. "But I still want to. If they're really my fans, they'll understand. And yes, our age gap is.. pretty big, but I've never loved anyone as much as I love you."

"You are.. mi amor, mi vida. And I'd do anything to be with you." He kissed you softly.

You ran your hands through his hair, and they rested on his neck. "Okay."

"Okay?" You could hear the excitement in his voice.

"Okay." You nodded, reassuring him.

He gave you the biggest grin he had as he hugged you and pulled you both to lay down on the bed, laughing while he was at it.

"Then it's decided. You're coming to the next red carpet with me. As mine."

----

A/n: my crush on this man is starting to feel dangerous.

second part

#daddy pascal #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #frankie morales #romance #joel miller #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #tlou #fluff #angst #request fic #pedro pascal narcos #pedro pascal tlou #javier pena #oberyn martell #rpf

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